The Untold Tales of Sherlock Holmes
by Logastella Krustallos
Summary: Title's in the works, sorry. This is a compilation of one-shots. Mostly done for kicks. Partly for feels.
1. Elementary, my dear Sherlock

_Author's Notes:_ Hello and a Happy New Year. :)

As an avid writer and fan of BBC's Sherlock, I find myself asking many things concerning the show and their characters. And then I find myself answering them with fics. Hope you enjoy. Feel free to give me writing advice.

* * *

"…And then I kind of got lost in the woods."

Sherlock let out a series of chuckles, smirking at the doctor walking beside him down Baker Street. John, slightly surprised by his laughter, smiled and said, "It's even funnier when you're barely ten years old. I was awfully late for dinner that night."

Sherlock had to ask. "How did you return home?" Hearing John's stories was not nearly as intriguing as fighting crime, but he admitted to himself that they weren't a terrible way to pass the time.

"Oh, well, I knew that the sun rose in the east, and set in the west. I used that as a guide. I remembered my instructor's lecture about the earth's axis and revolution around the sun. Thank god I paid attention that day," John murmured, recalling his dreadful memories of confusion and fear.

Sherlock's eyebrows wrinkled and he glanced questioningly at the sidewalk, hesitating to reveal his perturbation. John waited for a response, peering over at the consulting detective and into Speedy's café window.

And then it slipped out.

"Does it?"

John and Sherlock both halted, staring at each other.

"Does…it _what_?" John asked, completely lost.

"You know, what you just said." Sherlock grumbled, completely serious.

"I just…said –"

"Never mind. Forget it."

"—The earth revolving around the sun? Does it _revolve around the sun_? _That's_ your question?"

Briskly, Sherlock turned away from John and walked towards their flat. "I said forget it."

"You don't know that?!" John asked, his jaw dropping. "You're not joking, are you?" His eyes became wider with every second.

"**John**_._"

"Really? I'm sorry, but, _really_?"

Sherlock opened and slammed shut the door to their flat as quickly as possible, leaving John with his best blog material yet.


	2. Author's Note

Hey there

To the lovely few who have watched this:

I know I haven't updated in forever and for this I am truly sorry.

I am trying to get through all my work at school. I'm close to graduating, but that means college preparation, scholarships, and extracurriculars to work on. Any spare time I have is quickly sucked up. The process may be long, but I swear I will get some more chapters up.

I love Sherlock and the fandom too much not to.

-LK


	3. Tricks

It was a fresh and crisp Tuesday afternoon. The larks were singing their sweet melodies and the clouds flew softly round. Promising and elegant, the day was perfect for university students to gather and relax in the grass after class. The only thing on Sherlock's mind, though, was claiming his corner in the library.

With his usual fast-paced walk, he made his way across the concrete and green scenery of the institution. In his head he went through a list of books he had intended on finishing and beginning – he was slightly disappointed in himself for abruptly falling asleep the night before. He didn't _do_ sleep.

At last, the library entrance was in view. A smirk embraced his lips. It was silly, he thought – he knew the library would be there, at that exact same spot – nothing ever changed. And yet he always felt that excitement. His pace quickened, motivated by nothing but the books on his mind.

"Hey, Sherly!"

Sherlock paused, if only for a fraction of a second – he recognized that voice. He rolled his eyes, and turned around. Standing there was the familiar and irritatingly smug face of Sebastian Wilkes, who had his arms crossed. Next to him was a blonde, boring looking girl and a taller, but much skinnier long-haired man. Both looked rather amused.

"Sebastian," Sherlock said with some exasperation, impatiently tapping his foot.

"So is this the freak you keep telling me about, Sebby?" The blonde asked, clutching into Sebastian's arm. Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he scanned the girl, and threw an icy glance at his long-haired friend, who was now chortling.

"Oh don't be rude, Samantha," Sebastian teased, pulling her closer. "I just wanted to show you that trick he does. Go on, Sherly, show them." He urged, waving his hand. Sherlock stared at him, and then checked his watch. This wouldn't be long.

"I'm your girlfriend's entertainment now, I see," Sherlock began, putting his arm down and locking eyes with Sebastian. "Which is a shame, really. She moved on quite quickly from you – and from your friend there, too. It was only just this morning." Immediately, Samantha's smile dropped and her face began to burn bright. Sebastian's "friend" looked uncomfortable as he rubbed his neck.

Sebastian winced, understanding and yet, not understanding at the same time. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked indignantly, beginning to regret this whole game.

Sherlock faked a pout and shrugged. "Why don't you ask them? Samantha's got lint all over her stockings of the same color and texture as the lint on your friend's outerwear. And haven't you seen how long his hair is? How strange to find that some of it has fallen on her shirt! Why, it's as if Samantha was studying anatomy with him this very morning…" He mused, with the speed of an automatic machine.

All three students had the loveliest shade of scarlet on their faces; Sebastian's being the most furious. Within seconds a fight broke out, Samantha's cries unable to deter the anger of jealous boys.

"You're welcome," Sherlock called out, satisfied, as he walked away to the library.


End file.
